


Forgiveness

by charis2770



Series: Finding Vengeance...or is it Something Else? [30]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Arguing, BDSM, BDSM AU, Bondage, Hurt feelings, M/M, Rough Sex, Slash, Spanking, Yaoi, healthy BDSM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akihito has a really bad day. He takes it out on Asami and feels really terrible about it afterwards. He can't seem to shake the feeling that things have changed between them because of his thoughtless words. He has no idea how to breach the gulf between them, even though Asami has accepted his apology. While doing laundry, he recalls another time when things were awful between them, and what Asami had done to fix them. That's where he gets his big idea. If he can get Asami to go along with it....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it's really me. I won't launch into long explanations. I'm not sure how long I'll continue adding to the series, but I will say that I have missed the boys terribly, and all of you as well. I hope you can forgive me for being away for so long. This story is a continuation of my Finding Vengeance series about the relationships between Asami, Akihito, Feilong and Yoh. If you haven't read those stories, some of this may seem pretty confusing, though not so badly that it can't be read. Basically I myself am a kinky fucker who likes to think about beautiful men being kinky fuckers. It's not much of a stretch to make these particular men into kinky fuckers because have you read the manga? My stories do assume that all of them have grown up a little and are more in touch with their feelings than they generally are in canon, but I try to write them true to the way their characters feel to me. Oh screw it. If you know me, you already know all this. If you're interested, go back and read the series in order. Or if you don't mind being confused, that's okay with me too. I'm just happy to be able to write again. *hugs everybody lots*

It’s been a bad day. One of those kinds of days that starts out annoying and just goes downhill from there. His alarm hadn’t gone off, so he’d been late for a shoot, only to find that the magazine had called Mitairai to fill in for him. He’d run out of gas in the Vespa and had to walk to the nearest gas station, which had been a lot farther than he’d wanted to go, carrying all his gear with him because he might be a little scatterbrained sometimes but even he’s not stupid enough to leave a couple of cases of expensive photography gear on an unattended scooter in the middle of downtown Tokyo. Of course, he could have called Asami and knows his lover would have sent some member of his frighteningly efficient staff along in minutes with a fuel can full of petrol, but he hadn’t wanted to face the teasing, gentle and good-natured as it might have been.

 

The headache he’d given himself trudging about the hot, crowded, smoggy streets hasn’t left and has him so distracted that he’d burnt the first batch of rice and had to start over after scraping it out of the steamer. Dinner is finally nearly ready, but he’s even more steamed than the rice or the vegetables and of course because nothing’s possibly going to go right today they  _ are _ a little over steamed and he just doesn’t  _ do _ things like that! Definitely a bad day.

 

But it’s really no excuse. There can’t be one. When he thinks about it later, he can’t even begin to explain to himself what possessed him. He hears Asami open the door, senses the man’s presence behind him. He’s not surprised when strong arms circle his waist and a warm mouth presses against the side of his neck.

 

“What a lovely sight to come home to,” says Asami, with a smirk in his voice to show he’s baiting Aki a little because it’s what they do, after all. “My little wife preparing my dinner.”

 

Aki knows he’s joking. Knows Asami doesn’t think of him that way. Even wears the silly apron with the flowers on it because the verbal sparring matches pretty often lead to some really satisfying sex. But today it crawls over Akihito’s skin like thousands of biting flies on top of a hellish sunburn. It’s suddenly as though he’s at quite some remove from his body, watching perhaps from the ceiling in fascinated horror as his mouth opens and he knows he’s going to say something awful but can’t seem to make himself stop.

 

“Don’t you mean your whore? I mean let’s get real Asami, huh? Women are for marrying. And it’s not like I’m not earning my keep any way you like, is it? You’re a man who always gets his money’s worth, after all.”

 

Asami goes very still for several thunderous beats of Akihito’s heart as it tries to climb up his throat and throttle his tongue. His hands drop away and he turns, stepping to the table and sliding into his seat.

 

“Have you had a bad day, Akihito?” he asks calmly, but there is a tone in his voice Aki has only heard once before. And as he’d turned away, there had been an expression in those compelling golden eyes that Aki’s only seen once before. He keeps his back to Asami for a few seconds as tears prick the corners of his eyes, blinking furiously, before he turns and woodenly starts placing dishes on the table.

 

“Asami,” he whispers, “I….” His courage fails him. “Yeah. It….it was really awful. I overslept and missed out on a job, and the Vespa ran out of gas and I got a really bad headache going to get some for it and I can’t get rid of it and I burned the rice and just...everything went wrong.”

 

“Perhaps you should take a hot bath after dinner,” suggests his lover sympathetically, as if Aki 

hasn’t just said something unforgivable to him, “and then I’ll take your mind off the rest of it later. I’ve got a little work to do after I finish eating, but I should be free in an hour or so.”

 

Aki mumbles something agreeable and they finish their dinner in silence. Asami rinses off his dishes in the sink as he always does and then pads off to his home office. Numbly, Akihito finishes cleaning up the kitchen, the motions so familiar to him now that they’re automatic, because he’s certainly not thinking about what his hands are doing. He’s having a silent screaming match with his own brain.

 

“You IDIOT! Why would you say something like that to him? You know he doesn’t think that, he’s never thought that, you’re so stupid!!”

 

But the words, really, are immaterial, because what’s really the most consuming thing going through his head is the look on Asami’s face after Aki had spoken those spiteful, unfair words. Before Asami had been able to adopt his well-practiced mask of bored amusement, his eyes had widened for just a moment, his sinful lips parted for a split second in a silent gasp as those words had found their mark. Aki knows what the expression had been, what it had meant. Asami had been hurt. Really, truly hurt. By him. By his careless, thoughtless words. 

 

Akihito has known for some time now that some of his jibes and railings at Asami about his selfishness, his high-handedness, his bullying ways have been unfair to the man, and that in reality Asami is actually kind of a sap about stuff some of the time. But he also knows that Asami has always understood that Aki has always said those things to try to keep himself from getting too close, from being consumed by Asami and his world where Aki has so often worried he doesn’t fit. He knows that Asami has let him kick at their connection, has let him run from it, hide from the truth of it, until he was ready to see below the surface. He even knows that sometimes Asami acts high-handed and arrogant just so that Aki won’t start to feel freaked out if he does one too many thoughtful things. Just like he’ll let Feilong throw a temper tantrum every now and then so he’ll have an excuse to “punish” him because when dark thoughts start to crowd Feilong’s brain he’s not capable of asking for what he needs, he’s got to goad someone into giving it to him like a bratty child. Not that any sane or decent person would ever punish a child the way Asami punishes FeiFei under those circumstances, but still….

 

Aki knows he’s hurt Asami that badly once before. He recognizes pain on the handsome face because one time, years ago, he’d swum back to consciousness on the deck of a ship in the South China Sea and opened his eyes to an expression like that. Asami had asked him to promise not to do it again, not to toss his heart around like that anymore. Not to hurt him again, is what he’d meant. 

 

But Aki has. 

 

He doesn’t take a bath. He doesn’t remember the headache anymore, or rather it is subsumed by the pain in his heart at what he’s done. It takes him rather longer than usual to clean the kitchen, and after that, it takes him  _ considerably _ longer than it ever has to walk down the hall to the door to Asami’s home office. He has to stand and consider the closed door for a very long time, because try as he may, he simply can’t drum up the courage to knock on it.

 

It’s really not very much of a relief when it opens anyway, soft light from Asami’s desk lamp spilling over him into the dim hallway, to reveal Asami looming over him, his expression unreadable in a way it hasn’t been for years.

 

“You’re wavering so hard I can actually hear you out here doing it,” he says, one corner of his mouth curling up just ever so slightly, which gives Akihito a tiny glimmer of hope. “Will you kindly stop doing it? What is it that you need, Aki-kun? Surely after all this time you’ve realized that I don’t  _ actually _ eat brats for breakfast. Well….dessert sometimes.” He turns and walks back to his desk with a wink, and Aki follows him, still hesitantly. After he’s seated, Asami picks up the pen he’s obviously been using to sign papers and then waits. And waits. One elegant brow lifts and he glances significantly at the papers in front of him. 

 

“Really, Akihito, if you’d like me to take your mind off that headache any time before sunrise, I do have to finish here,” he chides gently. Aki flushes in embarrassment and does something he’s only ever done to Asami to mock him before. He bows deeply at the waist, partly because he can’t think of a way so show how bad he really feels and partly so that he doesn’t have to look Asami in the eye when he blurts out,

 

“Asami I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said, it was really stupid please forgive me!” The words explode from him in a rush of bated breath, his fists clenched at his sides and his eyes screwed tightly shut. They fly open on a startled yelp when he’s tugged off balance and finds himself sprawled in Asami’s lap in a very undignified heap. This comes as no great surprise. He’s managed to maintain his dignity with Asami exactly not at all since the moment he laid eyes on the man. 

 

“Will you please stop behaving as though you expect me to do you grievous bodily harm,” complains Asami good-naturedly, tucking Aki’s head effortlessly under his chin, which serves to make him squirm inwardly at being managed like a child, but which he can’t help but note saves him from having to look Asami in the eye as well. He sighs. Asami does know him, after all. He can’t even call him a bastard for it at the moment.

 

“But I,” he begins to protest, only to have his mouth covered by Asami’s warm palm.

 

“Hush. Everyone has a bad day now and then. Everyone says something they don’t mean now and then too.”

 

“You don’t,” mutters Aki against Asami’s hand. Asami chuckles and removes the hand, leaving Aki missing the flavor of his skin a little.

 

“Perhaps I try harder than most not to,” he says softly, “but yes, even I.” Akihito scoffs.

 

“When have you ever said something you didn’t mean,” he asks, not expecting Asami to be able to provide an answer.

 

“I didn’t mean it when I told you some years ago that there was no hope of escape for you….from me.”

 

Aki struggles to sit upright and stares into Asami’s unscrutable face in shock.

 

“What does that….of course you meant it,” he cries hotly.

 

“I wanted to mean it,” says Asami softly, raising one shoulder in a shrug and smirking at himself a little. “And I definitely intended you to believe it. But Aki...if you’d really wanted to be free of me....I’d have let you go. I wouldn’t….hold you against your will. You’ll always be….you’ll always have that freedom, whatever the cost to me personally. Or the inconvenience.” But he’s added the last in an attempt to lighten the mood, to give Akihito the out he almost always gives when things get too serious for the younger man, and Aki sees how much the admission costs him, and reads the absolute truth of it in Asami’s eyes.

 

“I don’t,” whispers Aki earnestly, hating the bright blush that suffuses his skin at laying himself so bare before this man, even now, but also hating that it’s hard for him a little, maybe for the first time. He’s been pretty sure for a while now that Asami doesn’t talk about his feelings for Akihito very often  _ not _ because it’s hard for him, but because it’s hard for Aki. “I don’t want it,” he says again, more fiercely this time, putting his hands on Asami’s face and making really good eye contact, even though his stomach clenches a little. “I didn’t mean what I said, Asami, I  _ didn’t _ . I know you don’t think….that...about me. I know you don’t even really think I’m your wife. I’m…”

 

Asami shuts him up with a kiss, which leads to more kissing that switches quickly from a deterrent to seduction, with tongues tangling and teeth that nip softly, their breath mingling on Asami’s soft growl and Aki’s soft moan. Asami doesn’t get any more work done, but within moments, Akihito’s headache is completely gone.

  
  


He tries not to think about it anymore, because he knows Asami will never bring it up again, but a couple of days later he is abruptly able to put words to the funny niggling feelings he’s been having in his tummy when Asami comes home from work, greets him with a kiss to the top of his head, and joins him for dinner as is their custom. Asami is being  _ careful _ with him. And he hates it. Hates it with a bright and abiding passion that becomes unbearable the moment he’s aware of it. 

 

Instead of pushing it aside as he would have done in the past, or as Asami likely expects him to, Akihito thinks about it the next day. He thinks about it a lot. He knows Asami really has forgiven him, because he’s said so, and he wouldn’t lie about something like that. But he hasn’t forgotten about it, because he’s not teasing Aki the way he usually does, not until he’s taken the time to assess the photographer’s mood and asked about his day. But Akihito realizes he hasn’t forgiven himself. He still feels awful for hurting Asami’s feelings. It’s somehow more horrible to have seen that kind of pain in the eyes of someone as strong as his lover is. Asami always seems nearly invulnerable to him. He remembers how much more horrifying Asami’s wounds had been to him than his own, because Asami should have somehow been bullet proof. He’s always  _ seemed _ bullet proof. 

 

“Maybe I should’ve gotten drunk before I rode home to make dinner,” he mutters to himself as he stuffs some of his shirts into the washing machine. “Then he’d have had a reason to punish me when I said….no…. _ before _ I even said those things and I wouldn’t feel this….”

 

He straightens slowly, forgetting the wadded t-shirts in his hands. He knows he’s got to be crazy for even thinking about this, but when he considers the past couple of days, he decides crazy is a hell of a lot better than this awful  _ politeness _ Asami’s been showing him. And it’s a lot better than the little niggle of self loathing he can’t get rid of too. Asami has only actually punished him a couple of times. It had been pretty bad. His ass clenches a little inside his jeans when he thinks about Asami caning him. Maybe….he swallows thickly….maybe  _ that _ much punishment won’t really be necessary….but most importantly he remembers how everything wasn’t just forgiven after those couple of excruciatingly painful (but brief!) incidents….it was all forgotten too. Like a clean slate, or a blue sky swept clear by a storm, and how Asami hadn’t treated him awkwardly and most importantly for the current situation, he hadn’t felt bad about himself either. He’d done things a lot more dangerous than hurt Asami’s feelings on those occasions, from driving his scooter while under the influence to actually putting his own life in danger without really considering the possible outcomes, but because of the way Asami had handled those situations, Akihito hadn’t had to feel guilty about any of it. Asami’s good at things like that. A...a good Dominant. Whether Aki continues to refuse to recognize him as  _ his _ dom, or outwardly anyway, it doesn’t change the fact that Asami kind of is, and understands him, and always seems to know what to do. 

 

Aki firms his chin. He’s going to be a grownup about this, and take the steps that it’s usually Asami who has to take, to make things better between them. He finishes the few chores and errands he has on his list today and then takes the elevator down to the second floor. There’s a conservatory on top of part of the lobby and parking deck where there are lots of trees and shrubs and flower beds, and a few koi ponds and a rock garden, with sitting areas scattered around for the exclusive building’s residents, a small oasis of green in the midst of the city’s concrete and steel. He wanders around until he’s sure there’s no one else about and then quickly denudes one of the trees of a few parts of its anatomy, with darting glances over his shoulder as he does it, wondering what on earth he’d say if one of the residents or security personnel of Asami’s building were to happen along and ask him what he’s doing. He’s lucky, and escapes unnoticed back to the elevator where he rides back to the penthouse with his booty clutched behind his back in a sweaty fist.

 

He prepares both what he’s gathered and Asami’s favorite meal of thinly sliced and quickly seared kobe beef, the meat both so tender it will melt in their mouths and yet also deliciously crispy in a few places. He sautees some mushrooms and whips up a quick sauce, making sure to check the rice in the steamer several times so there’s no fear of it burning. A light salad and a bottle of the wine he remembers Asami opening the last time they’d had teppanyaki round out the meal.

 

When Asami steps into the kitchen, Akihito doesn’t give him a chance to make polite inquiries about his day. He sets down the platter of sizzling steak and steps into the bigger man’s personal space, wrapping his arms around Asami’s waist and laying his cheek against the breast of his bespoke suit where he can hear the slow, steady thud of Asami’s heart. Asami doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace, but he’s also careful to keep it chaste, whereas most night if Akihito is as forward as this his hands will slide down to cup Aki’s bottom or will roam up to fist in his hair and tug his head back so that he can nibble at Aki’s throat or he will pinch a sensitive nipple or tug gently on Aki’s piercings. Of course Akihito complains about those things, but now his eyes smart at the sting of their loss.

 

“What’s all this for?” asks Asami, surveying the meal laid out for him, inhaling appreciatively. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

 

“I felt like doing something nice for you,” says Aki, hunching his shoulders a little. “Is...isn’t that okay?”

 

“Of course it’s okay,” replies Asami, taking his seat and picking up his napkin, then looking up to catch his nervous lover’s eye. “But Akihito...this isn’t necessary. I hope you know that.”

 

“I know! I just….felt like it, is all. Now….shut up and eat before it gets cold!”

 

“I certainly wouldn’t want that,” demurs Asami, popping a mushroom into his mouth with a wink. After several bites, he pauses to place a hand on Akihito’s wrist. “It’s very good. My favorite. Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” mutters Aki with his mouth full, but finds it a little hard to swallow. Asami shouldn’t feel like he has to make a point to stop and show appreciation like that. Not that he doesn’t generally show appreciation one way or another when Aki makes food he likes or does some other small thing for him, but he doesn’t usually make it a point this way, and it’s just one more way they’re just not in synch with each other right now.

 

It’s fairly late, as it often is when Asami gets home from work, so after they finish their food and Asami has had a smoke while reading and responding to a few late emails, and Akihito has put the kitchen back to rights, he takes a deep breath and catches Asami’s eye before turning and heading for the bedroom. 

 

He’s brushing his teeth, clad in boxer briefs and a t-shirt, trying very hard to ignore the way his legs want to tremble and his stomach wants to tie itself into knots, when he hears Asami come into the bedroom as well. There’s a lengthy pause. He spits and rinses, then stands before the sink with his toothbrush clenched so tightly in his fist that it creaks a little, unable to put it down.

 

“Akihito, come here.”

 

Asami’s voice is soft, but there’s no mistaking the command in it. He swallows hard as he finally manages to put the toothbrush back, wincing a little as it clatters loudly inside the glass where it resides. Then he lifts his chin and nods at himself firmly in the mirror, and obeys.

 

Asami isn’t looming, which is a little surprising under the circumstances. He’s sitting on his side of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned, his hair mussed as though he’s just been running his hands through it, which he probably has, considering the frown on his face as he regards the object in his hands. It is a small bundle of slender green switches, carefully smoothed of their leaves and any bits of bud or other sharp little protrusions, and tied together with a length of green yarn in a clumsy bow.

 

“Explain.”

 

Hoping that he doesn’t look scared or pitiful or as nervous as he feels, Aki walks slowly to Asami’s side and sits next to him. He bites his lip, worrying at a little tag of loose skin as he thinks carefully about what he wants to say. He knows he tends to ramble on and on, but he doesn’t want to sound that way right now. He wants Asami to take him seriously. Glancing up at the person in question through his shaggy bangs, he can see that Asami looks pretty serious already. He decides to just get straight to the point.

 

“Asami, I...I want you to p...punish me.”

 

Asami’s eyebrows lift, but to Aki’s relief the expression isn’t accompanied by the usual smirk. Slowly, the small frown between those perfectly sculpted brows returns. Asami’s deft fingers drift over the lengths of the slender branches in his hands, then his eyes cut sharply to Akihito’s face.

 

“Why?” he asks bluntly. Aki goggles at him for several long moments as his brain scrambles for the best way to answer the question.

 

“Be...because of what I said to you the other day,” he finally blurts, knowing this is woefully inadequate, but hoping it will at least start things moving in what he hopes will be the right direction. Asami startles him by dropping the switches and clenching his fists. 

 

“Are you suddenly proposing after all this time to become my submissive, Takaba Akihito?” he asks in a soft voice. It’s one he’s used just before verbally eviscerating business rivals or possibly Russians, so Aki recognizes that Asami is awfully close to being something like angry.

 

“No,” he whispers, shaking his head a little in negation.

 

“Then what right have you to put me in the position of making you accountable to me for your words and actions?”

 

“I….what? Asami, wait...that’s not what I….ugh, I suck at this….what I mean is….”

 

When a corner of Asami’s mouth curves as Aki starts to splutter and protest, the fear choking him eases suddenly and he smacks Asami on the arm. Asami’s answering grip on his wrist is bruising, but he doesn’t care, because the flash in those tiger eyes is something he hasn’t seen in days and even though this is all going wrong, he thinks for the first time that maybe everything is going to be okay. Eventually anyway.

 

“There was only one actual sentence in all of that,” points out Asami in his most maddening way, “and I’m going to have to agree with it wholeheartedly. At least for the moment, you do indeed suck at this. Would you care to offer a better explanation?”

 

“Let go of my hand,” complains Aki, who is mostly trying to buy time to put his thoughts in order, all his nice logical reasoning from yesterday having flown out the window in the face of Asami’s response to his request. It simply hadn’t occurred to him that it would  _ offend _ the man. “Well...why don’t you want to?”

 

Asami sighs and lets go of his hand. He picks the switches up again and twirls them idly in his fingers, considering.

 

“I can’t imagine why you’d need to ask me that, except to assume that you’re stalling because you don’t know how to answer me. I’ve said before that I have no desire to act like your papa...well. Outside the realm of certain roleplay situations which have nothing whatsoever to do with real life, of course.”

 

Aki blushes, thinking about Uncle Ryu and some of the things they’ve done together. Asami’s smile is fleeting, but genuine.

 

“The reason I punish you, on the rare occasion that it does happen, isn’t to teach you a lesson. Not really. It’s for my sanity, I suppose I could say. Only a very few times you’ve done something so reckless that it really could have cost you your life, and I couldn’t bear it. If you did something foolish and it cost me that, took you from me, I am honestly not sure I’d survive it, Akihito. I am sorry if this line of discussion causes you discomfort, but apparently I need you to understand this. It nearly killed me, to see you at the mercy of men who would have killed  _ you _ without a second thought, and knowing you’d put yourself there on purpose…” He presses his lips together and closes his eyes. “I won’t ever demand that you obey me in all things. I won’t set rules for you to live by, or demand titles from you that make you uncomfortable. I’m very happy with things the way they are. I like your sass. I like it when you fight me. I like it when you’re able to be honest in your desire, and the way your body responds to pain and pleasure.”

 

“I...yeah. Me too,” whispers Aki, cheeks turning pink. “And...and I do think I get it. Why you...did what you did when I let those men get me, and when I drove drunk. You...you needed to make me understand how much it hurt you to think about me being hurt in a...a bad way. Understand in a way that was more than just words. So I’d….really know it. In my bones. And all of me would maybe remember it next time. How much….how much it hurt both of us.”

 

“Akihito,” says Asami softly, astonished. Aki glances up at him, then looks down at his hands where they’re clenched in his lap. “I’ve been...you do understand. All this time I’ve….well, I’ve wondered if you might...resent me for it.”

 

“I didn’t. I don’t,” cries Aki, reaching out to grab Asami’s hands where they play absently with the small branches as he suddenly sees what he wants to say. “There isn’t any of that...of resentment...between us from those times.  _ That’s _ why I asked, Asami. I want you to stop resenting  _ me _ for hurting you the other day. To...to be able to put it behind us for real.”

 

“You think I resent you?” asks Asami, looking honestly surprised. 

 

“Welll….yeah. That’s….that’s why you’re acting so weird towards me. All...all stiff and careful. Right?”

 

Asami throws his head back and laughs. This confuses Akihito at first, but his confusion turns rapidly to annoyance.

 

“Stop laughing at me, asshole,” he grumbles, trying to let go of Asami’s hands, who refuses to be released and yanks Aki into his lap.

 

“Oh Akihito, I adore you. No, stop it,” he says, a gleam of warning in his eyes when he sees Aki think about trying to hit him again. “Really, you’re too cute. I’m not being stiff and careful with you because of that. I thought...well, I realized perhaps I’ve been insensitive to your feelings about being perceived as feminine. I assumed you knew I was joking with you when I call you my wife, and your response the other day made me realize that perhaps I should try harder to be more considerate of those feelings.”

 

“I do know you’re joking. I don’t know why I was so horrible. I mean, it really doesn’t bother me anymore. I know you don’t see me like a girl. I was just in a shitty mood and I lashed out at you because you gave me something to aim at. And that wasn’t fair.”

 

“No, it wasn’t,” agrees Asami. “But Akihito, people who are in relationships sometimes hurt each other’s feelings. It’s part of being in one. You try not to do it, apologize when you do, and you get past it. You move on.”

 

Aki thinks about this for a minute. It makes sense, but the sense of wrongness is still there in his stomach somehow. He frowns.

 

“You’re gonna tell me really truly that there’s not any part of you that’s being careful not to say anything that’ll make me say something like I did to you again?” he asks suspiciously. Asami sighs.

 

“It’s not my intention to make you feel worse than you obviously do about it, but...very well. It’s not precisely for the reasons you’re thinking, but yes. I’m...considering that perhaps since the beginning of our relationship I should have been doing a little assessment of your state of mind before I start teasing, not just to prevent you from lashing out at me. Do you see?”

 

“I do, I guess, but….but I think it sucks. We’re not  _ careful _ with each other, not that way. Not...walking on eggs or whatever the hell.”

 

“Maybe I should have been a little more careful with you before now. Perhaps you wouldn’t have said the things you said if there wasn’t at least a part of you that has some issue with at least some of the things I’ve said to you in the past.”

 

“I hate it,” says Aki mulishly, knowing he sounds petulant but not being able to help it.

 

“You hate that I’m trying to be more considerate of your feelings?”

 

“I hate it that you’re doing it because I hurt yours!”

 

“I see,” says Asami solemnly. “Akihito, you’re not asking me to punish you so that I’ll stop resenting you for hurting my feelings. I said I forgave you, and I have. Have I altered my behavior because of it? A bit, perhaps. It wasn’t an experience I’m eager to repeat. But it’s also perhaps true that I needed to alter that behavior. No. You’re asking me to punish you because you feel guilty, and you want me to make you feel better.”

 

“You’re a real bastard sometimes, you know what?”

 

“Have I ever tried to deny it? But am I wrong?”

 

“I don’t know,” cries Aki, feeling tears welling up in his eyes and hating for about the millionth time that this always seems to happen to him, that his emotions always seem to betray him. “Maybe. Probably. Forget I asked, Asami. It was stupid. I get it. I just have to get over it.”

 

“I’m not sure that was entirely what I said,” murmurs Asami, tightening his arms around Akihito when he tries to squirm free from his lover’s grasp and flee the bedroom. To where, he has no idea. Just somewhere that is….else. “Stop this, and listen to me. I won’t punish you, Akihito. You don’t deserve to be punished.”

 

“Fine, I get it. Can we please just go to bed then?”

 

“I’m not finished,” snaps Asami. “Listen to me, you silly boy. Aki. You don’t. Deserve. To be punished. I’m not, however, saying that I won’t give you what you want. No,” he pauses, then corrects himself. “What you need. It’s not my intention to make you feel bad, but I’m not going to stop trying to be a little more considerate of your feelings. That’s going to remind you why I’m doing it, and you’re going to keep beating yourself up for it. That’s not allowed.”

 

Asami’s voice very abruptly takes on the tone it does which lets Akihito know that his ass is very shortly going to be in big trouble. The tone that always gives him a shivery feeling in his belly and takes his breath away, drives the blood from his brain to pool somewhere much lower. He gasps softly and squirms in Asami’s lap. 

 

“It’s not?” he whispers, and just like that the tears are gone, because when Asami sounds that way he knows that everything really is going to be okay, even if it also means that pretty soon the tears are going to be back. They’re just not going to be making him feel wretched and sad anymore.

 

“I’m the only one who is allowed to beat you, my stubborn little pet. I’ll give you what you want Akihito. But it won’t be for punishment, because if it were, I wouldn’t be able to fuck you when I was finished making you cry like a naughty little boy. And I’m going to, Aki. Going to make you cry. And then I’m going to fuck you. You may be awfully sorry you chose the switch to absolve you of your guilt at that point, because I’m certain you know from experience how well I can use it to reach into all sorts of soft, tender places. Don’t you?”

 

“Ngh,” says Aki eloquently, thrusting his hands into Asami’s hair and grinding against him, shutting that sinful mouth with his own. Asami’s soft laugh spills down his throat as he kisses Aki back for several very satisfying seconds during which Akihito isn’t feeling guilty at all. Then he finds himself tossed back on the bed and staring up at Asami as his lover shrugs his shirt the rest of the way off and very deliberately unties the bow binding the switches together. He lets all but one of them fall silently to the floor, then slashes that one through the air a couple of times. It makes a satisfyingly terrifying sound.

 

“Take off your clothes,” purrs Asami with an evil smile, “and get that naughty little ass in the air.”


	2. Forgiveness, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So now for the good stuff....

It doesn’t matter how many times it happens. Akihito is just as startled now by how fast Asami can have him trussed up and helpless as he was in the beginning. He finds himself on his knees with his face and chest pressed against the luxurious softness of Asami’s sheets, ass thrust obscenely up in the air, his thighs spread wide and his wrists cuffed to them. The black leather of the straps and cuffs around his wrists, thighs, waist and torso feels cool against his skin. He tugs against it, not because he’s really trying to get away, but because it is both thrilling and terrifying to reinforce to himself that he can’t. Asami chuckles at his useless thrashing.

 

“You volunteered for this, little brat. Why are you trying to escape? It’s hopeless you know.”

 

Akihito turns his face into the pillow beside his head to muffle his response to this. Asami has placed it there so that Aki can rest his chin on it (or bury his face in it) if he wants to. He yelps when strong fingers fist in his hair, his back arching, neck straining as his head is yanked roughly back.

 

“What was that?” asks Asami pleasantly.

 

“I said,” mutters Aki as his cheeks heat up and he closes his eyes so he won’t have to see his lover’s face, “that I haven’t been trying to escape for a long time. They don’t….I’m not pulling because of that, not to get away. I’m...making sure you did a good job. It makes me feel….”

 

“Makes you feel?” prompts Asami. Aki opens his eyes to glare, but the expression on Asami’s face stops him. Rather than the smugness he’s expecting, there’s something almost vulnerable in that expression, as if Asami needs to know, not as if he’s seeking vindication.

 

“Safe,” whispers Aki, closing his eyes again because he doesn’t want to watch Asami gloat if he’d been wrong about that look. They fly open in shock when the older man’s mouth covers his gently in a kiss of surprising sweetness, considering what they’re about to do.

 

“Thank you,” Asami whispers back, and, “I’ll always keep you safe. Are you ready?”

 

“Yes. Asami?”

 

“What is it, my cute Akihito?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“A sentiment I intend to drive from you completely,” hisses Asami, and brings the switch down across Aki’s upthrust and splayed backside. Hard. 

 

A line of pure fire springs to life in his flesh in an instant. The sharp immediacy of it takes his breath away. Asami really isn’t playing around. He can’t hold back a cry of pain as the second stroke follows the first just moments later. Briefly, he struggles against it. It’s too much. Hurts too badly. He can’t take this. Oh, he’s so stupid. Why had he asked for this? What had he been thinking?

 

Then Asami’s hand comes to rest in the small of his back, not holding him down, just touching him.

 

“Beautiful,” whispers his lover, and strikes him again. But not with the switch this time. With his hand. Quickly, he peppers Akihito’s bottom and the backs of his thighs with sharp, snapping spanks that bring heat blossoming over his skin and inside his belly. Confusion wars with the lust pooling immediately in his groin. He whimpers and lifts his hips up to meet Asami’s hand.

 

“Ah...Asami...wha…”

 

“Shh. Don’t worry, little pet. I’ll make sure you feel everything you need to feel so you won’t be sad anymore. Leave it to me. Trust me, Aki, and feel what I give you. You don’t deserve to be punished. There’s a very good reason I chose to bind you so. Everything that happens tonight is in my hands. You don’t realize it yet, but you’ve taken a huge step in trusting me with this. It’s the first time you’ve ever  _ asked _ me to ‘punish’ the bad feelings out of you. Usually you scratch and hiss at me until I’m pushed into giving you what you need. The reason this is happening may not be one that felt very good for either of us, but oh...I am so  _ very _ pleased with you right now. You’re not being punished Akihito. You’re being rewarded, and you deserve every moment of it. Just let go, Aki. And feel.”

 

Akihito gasps at his lover’s words. His throat tightens and tears well up in his eyes as Asami continues to spank him with his hand. While he’s still capable of thought, he remembers the many, many times Asami has told him how much he loves taming him but that he’ll also be pleased someday if Aki can  _ ask _ him for what he needs. He hadn’t even thought of that when he’d left the switches tied up in a bow on Asami’s pillow. Love for this man who brings him so much pain and so much pleasure swamps him, and he does as Asami asks. He lets go and feels.

 

He loses track of time while Asami’s powerful hands work him over. Pain and passion tangle until they’re one, until there’s only heat. He’s sobbing by the time Asami picks up the switch again, but they aren’t tears of sorrow, nor yet really of pain. Or not only that. His ass is on fire, but his head and his heart are flying with the things Asami has said to him and with the skillful way his body has been brought to this point. 

 

The pain is almost incandescent, a thin hot wire laid to flesh, and he wails with the hurt of it, but doesn’t struggle against it. He welcomes it, and every welt brings with it a new peak of need along with its breathtakingly brutal kiss. He shrieks when it bites between his spread cheeks, fingers opening and closing helplessly, bound so close to his tormented flesh but unable to cover it, to grant him any protection. Oh, how the position brings home to him that he is utterly laid bare, completely exposed. His cock throbs along with the pulse that pounds in the welts Asami paints over his skin. 

 

“Asami, Asami, please!” he cries. Asami chuckles, dark, sinful, merciless...and perfect. Again and again he directs the slender little branch to dart between Aki’s cheeks, nipping and biting at his tightly clenched little asshole while he howls and begs Asami not to.

 

“Have you been ‘punished’ enough yet, little boy?” growls the older man. Aki sucks in great gulps of air between his sobs and tries to think about what he’s been asked.

 

“Hurts,” he whimpers.

 

“I know it does. You’re so perfect to me right now. I want nothing more than to be buried so deep inside you that you cannot tell where one of us ends and the other begins. But only if…”

 

“‘Sgonna hurt,” gasps Aki, really wishing he could wipe his nose.

 

“When I fuck you? Oh yes,” Asami assures him. “Your cute little hole is red and swollen. But you love it, dirty little boy, almost as much as I do.”

 

“Yeah?” sniffles Akihito, writhing a little in his bonds because it makes every welt sing, “well lemme smack  _ your _ asshole with a stick and see how much  _ you _ like it then!”

 

This startles a laugh out of Asami, who recovers his aplomb but retains the humor that dances in his eyes as he leans down to nip the rim of Akihito’s ear.

 

“Apparently,” he purrs wickedly, “you haven’t had quite enough then have you, adorable brat?”

 

“You think?” quips Aki, regretting it almost instantly when Asami picks right back up where he’d left off and proceeds to set the entirety of the little photographer’s backside ablaze, from the backs of his legs to the crest of his round little bottom and  _ everything _ in between. He can hardly see through his tears, but he doesn’t care, because everything  _ inside _ him is as clear and clean as morning sun sparkling on water.

 

He  _ howls _ when a long finger spears into him, coating his sore hole with slick. A second finger follows way too soon and not soon enough. 

 

“No, no, no,” he chants through his tears. Asami’s laugh is utterly without sympathy.

 

“It’s way too late to stop me now,” he growls, scissoring his fingers apart. Aki’s groan at the burn feels torn from his very bones.

 

“Don’t  _ stop,”  _ he gasps, trying without much success to think of words to convey what he’s really trying to say. “ _ Hurry! _ ”

 

Asami isn’t rendered speechless very often, but Akihito doesn’t mind, at least not as long as he isn’t rendered motionless too. He can’t find words to explain that he needs Asami inside him  _ right now. _ It doesn’t matter that he’s not really prepped enough for it, or that it’s going to sting and burn and make him scream. He just needs him  _ NOW….ow oh ow fuck.  _ Never let it be said that, speechless or not, Asami has ever been slow on the uptake. 

 

By the time Aki manages to draw breath to scream, his lover’s thick cock is already plowed halfway up his ass. It hurts, oh it does, and Akihito gives voice to it at the top of his lungs, but he squirms and tries to find leverage with his knees to force his hips back to meet Asami’s slow, ruthless thrust into his body, whining through his tears in frustration when he can’t. One strong hand wraps around the belt encircling Aki’s waist and pulls him, hard and steadily, back into the eye-watering invasion while the other hand deftly flicks free the buckles entrapping Aki’s wrists. Sobbing with gratitude, he plants his hands in the mattress and locks his elbows, bracing himself to accept every inch of Asami’s agonizing assault.

 

“Ohh,” he cries, “oh Asami, it  _ hurts _ !”

 

“It’s not hurting me at all,” says Asami. “Do you want me to stop?”

 

“Ngh. Nuh...oh...Asami. Harder.”

 

Shaking his head in amazement at the levels of depravity his pet is capable of when he’s being really honest with himself and has been brought to this place in a way he likes, Asami gives him what he asks, wringing loud cries from Aki’s throat which even Asami can’t decide are pain or pleasure, though he’s pretty positive Akihito can’t tell the difference either. Then, partly because he knows exactly the effect it’s going to have, and partly because there’s suddenly not enough of his boy’s skin within his grasp, Asami hauls Aki up off his hands by the back of the harness and wraps one arm around his chest.

 

When Asami’s lips brush softly across the back of his neck, Aki’s skin pebbles in response. Asami doesn’t stop his relentless assault on the younger man’s sore, quivering hole, slamming home again and again, giving what he’s asked, but his hands and mouth are gentle, almost reverent, and Akihito knows he’s lost. 

 

“Ungh...A...Asami….I’m gonna....oh, I need to come!”

 

“Do it,” whispers Asami into his ear, his deep voice as effective as any caress, shivering down Aki’s skin, reaching places inside that no one else has ever touched, or ever will. “Akihito...come for me, my good boy. Nnh. You feel so good. You’re perfect. Come, Aki, for me.”

 

Akihito does, shaking and crying, supported by his lover’s strong arms, he comes so hard he thinks he’ll shatter into a million pieces, aching and sobbing and laughing a little too. He feels Asami’s rhythm falter, feels the powerful body behind him shudder as the other man finds his own release, filling Aki’s raw, stretched hole with his seed. They stay like that, frozen together, for some time, panting, until Akihito starts to shiver. Gently, Asami withdraws from his body. His teeth start to chatter a little and he whimpers, both from the pain of it and from the sense of loss, but then Asami turns him and lays him carefully on the bed and tucks him into the shelter of his arms. Akihito turns to him and mashes his face into Asami’s chest and cries a little more. Asami understands, as he always seems to, and doesn’t say anything. His hands move slowly up and down Aki’s spine with what seems to be infinite patience, as though he’d be perfectly content to do it all night. Akihito’s pretty sure he really would, if Aki needed him to.

 

A little later, after some cold juice and the careful application of a cool washcloth to a few places, Aki is feeling much more himself, blinking sleepily and watching Asami with what he’s aware is a slightly goofy smile as Asami traces some of the lines he’s painted on Aki’s skin. He supposes it should probably sting, but he feels too good right now to notice.

 

“How do you feel?” asks the older man softly, a thumb brushing at the tearstains on Aki’s face.

 

“Mm,” sighs Aki, leaning into the touch. He takes a deep breath and covers Asami’s hand with his own. “Asami?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I’m…”

 

“If you dare tell me you’re sorry again, Akihito, what happened to you tonight is going to seem like child’s play,” growls Asami warningly. Aki giggles. He can’t help it.

 

“No way,” he says fervently. “I don’t think I could survive being forgiven anymore. That wasn’t what I was gonna say anyway, geez.”

 

“Very well, I stand corrected. What is it, my cute Takaba?”

 

“I’m  _ hungry. _ ”

  
  


Akihito doesn’t think the sushi chef from Fukuzushi minds being woken up in the middle of the night at all. 


End file.
